Broken Kaleidoscope
by DancingInStars
Summary: Colours; the natural being of an object that is sensed by receptors in the eyes. Six heroes contemplate. Six drabbles. Because there has been a time in everyone's life when you have to sort out the mess of swirling colours. The 'Tics are no exception.


**:whistles: Has it really been that long? Something that I'm doing for the 100 themed challenge on dA. The theme was 'Colour'. Naturally XD**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own it. All known characters belong to WB. The rest (mainly the last ending bit) are OCs that belong to my awesome friends ;3 Only Sapphire is fully mine.**

**XXX  
**

Ever since he was a kid, Ace had always loved the colour _blue._

His childhood had consisted of waking up to the deep blue of his father's eyes, the same azure that he saw in his clear reflection whenever he looks into a mirror. It was cliched and poetic somewhat, he had mused on several occasions, that a modern male would find comfort in a colour so often linked to masculinity that it was a wonder why no one had questioned it yet till this day. He had laughed off his unoriginality though; blue reminded him of home.

The first night after Zadavia had gathered them to form the team, he had slipped away during the night to look over his suit. He failed to hold back his frown as he thumbed the yellow triangle on his chest. Yellow? Why _yellow_ of all blasted things? It was a weak colour, pansy-ish even, if he were to be blatantly honest with himself.

Fate works in mysterious ways; he learns later that while yellow is the colour of hope, blue is the colour of faith.

So maybe their enemies shouldn't be mystified by how lethal he could be in battle. Although he doesn't know it himself, once he was out of the picture, hope and faith would follow suit.

And he'd die a thousand times over before letting the same befall his team mates.

**XXX**

Lexi had always been fond of pastels.

She loved the soft blue of the clear skies after a storm, the heavenly scent of freshly dampened earth -not soaked through enough to form mud though- wafting through the air that reminded her so well of her life back in the country. It reminded her of days spent out with Sapphire as the 'fun-sized' (as Sapphire had often stated rather indignantly) girl would paint to her hearts content, nearly always ending up in a laughing heap with nearly as much -if not more- colour on herself than the canvas.

But pastels aside, she loved the colour _pink._

Pink was the colour of her beautiful little sister's nose when it twitched with untold ecstasy. It was the colour of the fresh tulips that had stood on her family's fireplace throughout the year as it was the colour of the plentiful wild roses that her mother had lovingly intertwined into her blond locks when she was a little girl. Pink was the colour that bloomed on Sapphire's cheeks when hit with the biting cold of winter, delicate and rosy like the first blossom of spring.

Pink is her definition of warmth, home and love... and it defined her life.

It wasn't hard to belief that when she adorned her pink uniform; it was when she felt most alive.

The feeling could only be rivaled when the girls -in an act that had been planned for weeks and in complete secrecy- presented her with a stunning pastel pink wedding gown.

**XXX**

Duck was many things.

Some words that had been quite accustomed to hear while describing him had been rather unpleasant if he would have had the humility to admit it even to himself; obnoxious, loud-mouthed, dryly sarcastic and cocky.

He? He'd substitute each word respectively, taking pride at their synonyms (or more or less so their synonyms); confident, straight forward, honest and self assured.

Given another chance however, he would with immense pleasure add in one mo- no, scratch that, three more adjectives to describe himself:

Bold, daring and exciting.

Which could explain perfectly why he favoured the rather spiffing combination of _black_ and _orange_. It was daring. It was bold. It was **unique**. Black was a neutral colour, a plain canvas that many would easily overlook for its mere simplicity. Splash in a dash of orange across it however and the result is a work of stunning art.

Well, that's what Duck tells himself. Whether he is taking Matthew Gray Gubler's apparent 'advice' to heart, thus finding it, to quote the man himself, that 'It's perfectly acceptable and rather admirable to be moderately delusional' or to be blunt, even if he had any inclination in his mind over _who_ is Matthew Gray Gluber however is free for open debate.

Vibrant orange outsmarted even the brightest of colours. What was pale, boring yellow, even with all its seemingly positive symbolism in comparison? He could scoff at the irony of it all.

The fact that his uniform supported an orange triangle against black acted as a testament to the fact.

It was only until he met Mairi that he realised that yellow wasn't all that bad after all.

Especially late at night.

**XXX**

Tech had always been a practical person.

Some would go as far as to say a 'refined' or 'well defined' person.

His staggering intellect was hard to ignore especially when he, more out of reflex that pure spite really, would condemn -albeit gently- a fact that one had sprouted from the tip of one's tongue. Whereas some might shrug off this incident, others may not, thus seeing the coyote genius in a rather arrogant light in comparison to his other rather humbling traits.

Tech however, ignores it all.

Because it was practical to do so.

It's not particularly shocking however when his taste in colours define his personality too. Refined and well toned down to the last syllable. _Olive green, rustic brown, royal indigo, cerulean blue, fiery scarlet._ He chooses these because he knows that he could have some form of control over his own thoughts and decisions. He doesn't busy his mind to sort out the different shades and tones like some others within his age group. Why should he? It wasn't practical.

He'd be wasting his time.

In the end though, it was another, fiercer form of fiery scarlet that taught him otherwise.

**XXX**

Being young at heart is different that being immature.

And having an overall tendency to go overboard with some matters is definitely not a testament to that. Such simplicities however, sometimes tend to reach out to the most tedious of matters; choosing a single favourite colour or such.

How can one single out a colour to favour between so many? It was simply unheard of!

He could not comprehend to this day the look of utter disbelief that his preschool teacher had spared him when he had, politely he might add, asked her if he could have extra sheets of paper to complete the answer for question number four: _What is your favourite colour?_

Hmph, simply unheard of.

But oh, they were so many colours to choose from! There was good old khaki, chrome, gold, mikado, hansa, icterine, cyan, denim, palatinate, sapphire, ultramarine, topaz, rose, cherry, crimson, scarlet, auburn, burgundy, fuchsia, magenta, mauve, ruby, carmine, chestnut and those were just the ones at the top of his head.

Obviously, it would take a while to sort it out.

In the end though, after a few months worth of somewhat careless research, he managed to wrestle himself down to three colours; _red, green_ and _blue_. His reasons however, might vary from one to another.

Green is the colour of change; green is also the colour of life. Blue is the colour of sorrow and fear; blue also represents faith. Red is the colour of love and blood; red also speaks boldly of unwavering courage.

Rev Runner is a living testament to all three.

**XXX**

Despite (or maybe the term should be _in_ spite) of what the others may think of him, Slam is actually more perceptive than what his friends may give him credit for. That in general is a blessing within itself. It leaves him more space to understand and accept some facts that others may find petty. It leads to a more open mind, yet withheld by his inability of coherent speech. So in the end, no matter how few and far between the times may be, sometimes it was him who the others turned to for a final, concrete stand when facing an undeniably near tragic end when the slightest miscalculations would completely catapult an otherwise perfectly crafted planned mission into a whirlwind of chaos.

No, Slam doesn't have a favourite colour.

Instead, he finds himself favouring the scenarios in which the colours present themselves.

He loves the _pink_ silk skirt that ripples and flutters as Lexi twirls across the room, hand in hand with an overly exuberant Ace whose _blue_ eyes seemed to sparkle with joy. He finds quiet comfort in the _orange_ prickling of pure energy that follows Duck's sometimes rather untimely appearance. He adores respectively the streaks of flashy _red_ of a loose pair of slacks and earth _brown_ of cargo pant that follow whenever Rev and Quick go hurtling past him, lost in the heat of their competitiveness.

He finds himself beaming in amused fondness at the bright _violet_ orbs that are Dusk's eyes when Sapphire throws her _ebony_ hair back, laughing with rampant ecstasy that makes the _blue_ in her hair flare as he twirls her around, catching her breathlessly back neatly in his arms. He feels a light tug on his heart when he sees the bright _scarlet_ of Cassidy's braid bounce rhythmically with her steps as she walks with Tech, hands intertwined physically, yet knowing that their very souls were connected in a bond that was ever gaining strength with each smile and tender touch that passed between the two. He smiles when he stumbles upon a deeply slumbering Seth clad in a pair of rather over sized _green_ pajamas sprawled across the couch, only to have his smile momentarily wiped off when he comes to realize just _what_ the younger coyote had fallen asleep to. He watches with something akin to awe as Icy fights, a blur of valiant blue and black that had been a constant point of shibboleth between her and Sapphire over the years.

He remembers with nothing less than heartfelt adoration the short, yet definitely unforgettable, period of time where Mairi had taken to indulging Sapphire to the art of sewing. The look of fierce pride that came onto the lyre bird's features as she proudly showed off the results of her labour in nurturing her student was presented along with an overflowing basket filled to the brim with several articles of clothing and decorations of various shades of _yellow_ had stunned them to say the least.

Yes, Slam loves all these colours.

They assure him as he closes his eyes at night with the sound knowledge that the team, no matter how turbulent their journey had been, had yet to rip at the seams.

The many existing colours proved that their team was _whole_.

**XXX**

**After a mega loooooooooong break from posting here, reviews would make my day. Or night-day. Considering it's already 4.03AM here ^^**

**~ DancingInStars**


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